Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Humbug!

Ya know what? It's my blog and I'll complain if I want to.

I cannot dig myself out of this funk. I am just not loving Christmas this year. I'm just too tired for Christmas. Maybe I could handle all the rude people if I just weren't so damn sleepy. Why are all the people so nasty this time of year? What's up with that? Isn't there supposed to be some sort of jolly factor going on in December? Maybe it's the weather. Maybe trotting around in a thick Christmas sweater when it's eighty degrees out makes some very cranky. I think ditching the sweater might be helpful, but hey, that's just me.

I am going to bitch some more now. Feel free to mark me as read if you don't want to hear about it. Oh, and there may be swearing.

Tuesday is Little Gym day. I love Tuesday. Donuts, Little Gym, and grocery shopping....my favorite things. Tuesday hasn't been fun today. First of all, some nasty lady at the donut shop kept pushing my kid out of his chair in her attempt to make more room for her big self. She made my kid cry then chewed him out in Spanish over it. Apparently she wanted me to do something about it because she then proceeded to chew me out in Spanish when my donut dudes politely told her we were there first. Yeah, don't screw with us lady. We have connections.

I figured things would go better at LG until two new ladies appeared with their very unsocial children. Adam was thrilled to have new kids to play with and tried his darnedest to include them but they would have no part in it. Okay. Whatever. He took the hint. What yanked my damn chain was when one heavily made up, prissy ass woman asked the teacher to please keep "that wild boy" away from her sweet little princess because he was just making her "too nervous to think". Uh, WTF? My kid was running. And playing. AT THE FUCKING GYM! When the teacher lined them all up to do an activity and my two year old cut in front of the little princess because she wouldn't move her pink ass for everyone else to participate, Perfume Bitch grabbed my kid by the arm and told him to wait his turn. Uh, WTF? I took Adam out of the room, timed him out for two minutes because, yeah, he cut in line and timed myself out as well because had I stayed there, I might have pulled all Crabby's bleached blond grays right out of her head. Now I don't like being confrontational; that's why I got married, I leave that to the husband, but I don't like paying that much money to be treated that way by anyone so I went back in, let Perfume Bitch know that I had taken care of the situation and our conversation went something like this:

"Yo, Bitch, keep your skanky hands off my kid"Me: I'm sorry Adam moved ahead of the line. He's just excited to have more children to play with today."Bitch: "Well, he's scaring my daughter. He's not very nice and he plays too rough."Me: "Actually he's a very nice boy. He's been trying to play and include your child and show her how things are done. LG is a time for the kids to run, jump, and roll, and if that comes off as rough, then maybe this isn't the right place for you and your daughter." Bitch: Blank Stare. Eye Roll. Whispered scowls to equally bitchy friend.

Yeah, bubble time didn't go well after that.

I hate bitches.

But it had to get better. I was going to the supermarket. I lurve the supermarket. Especially my new, fancy supermarket with the new,ultra awesome customer with child-right up front parking spaces. Of course, they would be even nicer if actual customers with children were able to park in them. They were full when we arrived. Okay. I'm fine with that, We can walk. What pissed me off was the dude with his case of Bus*ch and no kids, the fifty something women with no kids, and the employee, yes, with no kids that I encountered leaving or entering those prime spaces on our long walk to the door. Since I had such good practice in the confrontational arena earlier, I figured what the heck and to every one of those parking space abusers I said:

"Wow, you have the most beautiful child I've ever seen, you must be so proud."

Blank stares all around except for the Bus*ch dude who used his possible drunk noodle to come up with: "I don't have any kids!" Really?! Geez.

So instead of knocking off more of my Christmas list this afternoon, I'm staying home and avoiding all that holiday cheer. I'm thinking that mean boy and I can enjoy the hot weather in the kiddie pool while eating popsicles and singing Christmas tunes.

14 comments:

I'm sick of bitches too. My olders sons school is full of them and they are just lucky I don't run their fur coat wearing, Escalade driving asses over in the parking lot. And as for the grocery store, that place is just full of crazies this time of year and if my brain was functioning and I could remember to buy everything I needed the first time I was there, maybe I could stay out of that place. I went there today for the Christmas ham and 8 gift cards. I left there with the Christmas ham, one huge bottle of wine and 7 gift cards. Now tomorrow I have to go back for one more gift card and probably more wine.And your kids are adorable. Look what a sweet boy Adam is. They're supposed to be wild at LG. That's why we take them there. She must not have boys.

Man, I SO know the kind of bitch you're talking about. I get those "looks" all the time. Me and my posse of boys....I so with you could bring your lil hellion over to play with mine! Well, mine may actually teach yours a thing or two! Yeah, they're bad. I've given up trying to control them!

You should see the fright on mom's faces when their little girls have to share a bounce house with my wild boys, OMG they are actually jumping! Sometimes within a foot of their precious one. Bet the little girl was way less freaked than mom.

What a great response to bitchlady! Those are the sorts of lines I think of after the fact. I probably would have followed up "your child is too rough" with "and yours is too prissy, nyah, nyah" Ok, maybe not the "nyah, nyah" part...maybe...

How I Got Here

All my life I thought I'd be the perfect mother. I even majored in it. I aced all the child development classes I took toward my degree in, wait for it, Early Childhood Development and Elementary Education.
And then they were born. First Jacob, who is 8, then Adam, who is 4, and our biggest surprise, Elizabeth who is 2.
As much as I really wanted to be, I am finding out I am no June Cleaver. For starters, The Beav never had a baby sister.